


Sword Safety

by turntechFuckhead



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, betterbrostrider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9410903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turntechFuckhead/pseuds/turntechFuckhead
Summary: A one shot for the #betterBroStrider AU created by @caligulasaquariums on tumblr.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i didnt proofread this because i suck and im sorry for the mistakes that are probably everywhere

Regular day in the Strider household. On this Saturday morning, Dave woke up around 3 o’clock. Which, given, for most people, wasn’t morning at all. But the Striders had several rules - if you wake up, it is morning. No matter what time it actually was. Therefore, Dave went on with his usual morning routine, shuffling his socked feet in direction of the kitchenette, adjusting the hoodie he had thrown on on top of his pajama shirt. Once in front of the cupboard, Dave had to bend over, his back making an ungodly cracking noise, just to peer inside cupboard, and finally spot what he had been searching for - a box of Lucky Charms, that he had been saving all week to be able to savor once the weekend came around. Well, sure, Dave actually rarely had the time to actually have breakfast during the week. He woke up only to be just in time to throw some clothes on and run to class, every morning, of every week, for every school year since middle school.

Setting the box on the countertop, he turned on his heels to grab a bowl when something shiny caught his attention. In the corner of the kitchen, laying on the counter, was a blade. Not the kind of blade you’d find in a kitchen, like a kitchen knife (and now that Dave thought of it, he realized the Striders never owned any of these. Mostly because neither he or his bro were qualified enough as cooks to find any use for them). No, it looked more like a sword, or, to be more exact, a katana of some sort. Dave wasn’t all that familiar with these - except from seeing them in the occasional anime he would watch, he had never seen one with his own two eyes. The bowl he now had in hands was set down next to the box of Lucky Charms, and Dave stepped closer, examining the sharp blade in front of him from a cautious distance.

“Bro?” Dave called, knowing that his brother would be sleeping-slash-in-a-comatose on the futon in the living room. “Dude, the fuck is that? Why is there an anime sword in our kitchen.”

Apparently, Dirk wasn’t in such deep sleep as Dave expected him to be, since he immediately perked up at the words, his head poking out from the other side of the couch. “A what now?” His head disappeared again, and from the loud thud that Dave heard, he could imagine that his brother had rolled over and fell lamentably into the space between the couch and the coffee table. It was a matter of seconds before he was back up again, his shades hanging from the collar of his shirt and a somewhat alarmed look on his face. “Fuck. Shit.”

Dave cocked a brow, obviously not getting what was the deal with this shitty katana. Well, really, he didn’t know if it was shitty or not. He just assumed it was, though. “Bro, chill, I’m not going to mistake it for a butter knife and accidentally slice my hand off with it you know.” And yet, Dirk came dashing into the kitchen, carefully picking up the blade by the handle all while making sure to never point it towards Dave. “You can never be too careful, kid. Sorry. It shouldn’t have been here. A friend of mine gave it to me for sharpening and to test it out. I passed out yesterday and forgot to lock it somewhere safe.”

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Dave gave a visible pout. “Man, you’ve gotta stop treating me like a toddler. I’m 16, bro. I take self defense courses. I’m pretty sure I can handle one of these.” He gave a nod in direction of the katana. “Anyway, why would your friend come up to you, of all people?” The question had Dirk looking away and biting at his bottom lip, which, for Dave, was a good enough indicator that something was going on. “Spill the beans, bro. You’re hiding something.”

A loud sigh was Dirk’s answer, as he ran his hand through the mess of his unstyled hair. The dude always spent a ridiculous amount of time styling his hair every day, only to have it ruined by the caps he would wear once he’s done. But when he just woke up, it was always this untamable mess. “Okay, lil man. Okay. Let me just get the sheath for this,” he finally admitted, a pinch of guilt in his voice. “You mean that?” Dave pointed out, gesturing at the wooden sheath that rested against the fridge. “Yeah. Exactly that. You got it.”

Once the katana properly sheathed, Dirk leaned against the counter, one hand in his back, supporting him, as the other gripped firmly the now sheathed katana. “Well, you know. Me and my fuckload of weird hobbies, right? When I was younger, before you were born, I was really into these. Trained until I couldn’t hold anything in my hands because of the blisters the handles gave me. And I actually became a renowned swordsman, you know?” There was a hint of a smirk on Dirk’s face as he spoke, admiring the sword in his hand still. “But then you came into my life, and I had to take care of you, so I got rid of all my swords and katanas. Because, you know. Having those around with a toddler waddling about in the apartment wasn’t exactly the best thing I could have done.”

Listening carefully, Dave’s gaze kept going from the katana in his bro’s hand, to his brother’s face. He looked odd, as he spoke about this. Dave guessed it was nostalgia. The silence settled between the two of them for a moment, before Dirk spoke again. “I actually still have my favorite blade stocked away. I hid it behind the flatscreen. Figured you wouldn’t look there. Turns out I was right. I haven’t used it in years, though.”

That sparked some interest for Dave, apparently, because something in his eyes lit up, and his head snapped up to look Dirk straight in the eyes. “Will you teach me?” Dirk had a moment of obvious confusion, that lasted approximately a full three seconds. “You mean, sword fighting? You want to learn that?” To which Dave replied with a firm nod.

“I mean, fuck. I’m not sure if I’d be the best teacher. And I don’t want you to get hurt.” Dave rolled his eyes, making no attempt to hide it. He was confident in his ability, maybe a little too much, even. “Alright, alright dude. You’ll get your swordsmanship lesson. Get dressed, and meet me on the roof. Okay?” Dave gave a nod, not too unhappy to have gotten exactly what he wanted. He rushed to his bedroom, threw on some clothes, some old jeans that were already torn all over, and a graphic tee he absolutely gave no shit about. When he was ready, and his shades were firmly placed on his face, he returned to the living room, only to realize that Dirk most probably was already on the roof. So, with all the determination in the world, he went out the door, and climbing the flight of stairs leading to the roof.

And once he got there, he found exactly what he had been expecting - his bro, standing with an unsheathed katana at his side, and holding the one that was previously in the kitchen in his hands. Once Dave reached a respectable distance from him, Dirk threw the still sheathed blade in his little brother’s direction. “Catch,” he added, and Dave caught it with both hands.

“Okay, first thing first. You need to unsheathe it. One swift tug.” Dave snorted. It couldn’t be that hard to unsheathe a stupid katana, who was Dirk taking him for?

...Except it took him a long, long minute to get the thing out of its sheath. A long minute spent swearing and yelling in exasperation, until the sheath was finally off and ditched on the roof’s floor. Dirk watched in amusement as Dave obviously struggled, but figured that giving him a hand this early would probably impact on his little brother’s ego. Well, more than this mess already did, at least.

But once that was done, Dirk didn’t have the time to say anything - Dave was already in fighting stance, feet and hands all placed correctly to begin a strife. Dirk was impressed, to say the least. Maybe his little brother was a natural, after all. “Good. You’ve got the exact correct position to enter a battle. Good job, Dave.” That got a large smile spreading on Dave’s face. He was beaming with pride, almost as if his earlier failure had already been forgotten. Which, wasn’t entirely true. But he was better off pretending it never happened.

“What now?” Dave asked, obviously eager to continue. “I’m going to hit your blade with mine. Slow and steady at first. And if you can take the strikes, we’ll go faster, alright?” Dave nodded, and Dirk stepped forward, striking Dave’s katana for the first time, slowly, like he had predicted, but with enough strength to send waves of slight pain through Dave’s arms. He kept his stance, though, did not budge. Therefore, Dirk kept going, gradually faster and faster. And Dave took all the blows, determination written all over his features.

It lasted a long moment, before Dave eventually gave in, and the katana was knocked out of his hands. However, as he tried to pick up the blade before it fell to the ground, the sharp end came in contact with his palm, making him recoil immediately and hiss in pain. Dirk immediately stopped, dropping his own katana to his side and rushing towards Dave, who was now kneeling and holding up his already bleeding palm. “Shit! Lil bro, are you okay? Fuck, I’m so sorry, I should have been more careful, I was starting to get really into it and I didn’t pay attention, I-”

Dave interrupted him, a pained smile on his face that made Dirk’s heart fall to the bottom of his stomach. He had just hurt his little bro. Shit. FUCK. “It’s okay, Bro. I’m okay. It’s just a scratch, right?” Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Dirk nodded. “Right. Come on, get up. We’re gonna patch you up.” Dave pushed on the floor with his okay hand, and got back to his feet.

Abandoning the katanas behind them, both Striders headed back to their apartment, Dirk supporting his brother, making sure that he wouldn’t get dizzy from the blood loss and fall over in the middle of the stairs. And, as they made their way to the bathroom, to grab some bandages, Dave smiled up at his brother.

“Bro, let’s do this again when I’ve healed. Please.”


End file.
